Our final day was spent enjoying the idyllic surroundings of our resort and I’ve just assembled a self indulgent melange Of this beautiful spot. One which my life partner after enduring a nasty 6 months of illness and cardiac procedures wants to return to again.
Our flight out again affords us what are the last glimpses of paradise on earth.
Always keen to get an independent take on my destination I rent a car for a day. It is brought on time to my resort but the person delivering it says he has left the paperwork for me to sign back at the office. He just takes a photo of my driver’s license and leaves the car with the instructions to leave it at the end of the day with the key in it and they will pick it up. I complied of course. It’s a commentary on islander life that 2 days later the car was still there. In the first instance no one stole it, in the second there was no tearing demand for them to re-hire it
Our first destination was the sleepy main town Arutanga, grassy spread out with a sprinkling of basic shops. At the far end of town is the oldest church in Cook Islands, the Cook Island Christian Church built in 1828. The islands accepted Christianity in 1821 when preacher John Williams of Tahiti landed here on the way to Sydney seeking medical treatment for his wife. He secured an agreement from the chief and left two Tahitian preachers Papeiha and Vahapata to convert the islands.
The conversion to Christianity was not without struggle. The neighbouring town of Vaipae went to war Arutanga to oppose the change of religion. 2 years after the arrival of Williams. They lost the ensuing battle. Now outside the whitewashed church in Vaipae stands the rock where the warrior men slit their arms after the loss allowing their blood to bleed onto the rock and reluctantly accepted Christianity.
Further away the villagers of Tautu built a church named Silo in 1888 to relieve the villagers of Tautu from having to walk 3km each way across the island to celebrate mass on a Sunday. All that is left today is a memorial as a cyclone in 1914 destroyed it.
We had lunch in the beautifully appointed Pacific resort, the other luxury resort here. On the grounds there is the remnants of a Marae. These were the villages’ meeting places and sites where important decisions were made. The ground was designated as tapu (taboo) and remains so to this day.
After lunch we drove to Piraki lookout with a view across to the west.
This was followed by the steep climb up to Maunga Pu at 124 the highest point on the island affording magnificent 360 degree views.
Tasman Empire Airways Limited (yes TEAL!) operated between 1940 and 1965. It’s main run was trans Tasman but between 1951 and 1960 it took over a route known as the Coral Route. The route followed a loop from Auckland (NZ) with stops in Fiji (Suva), Samoa (Apia), Cook Island (Aitutaki) and Tahiti (Papeete). Due to issues in Tahiti the loop was serviced by seaplanes landing and refuelling in lagoons. Celebrities who took this voyage included John Wayne, Cary Grant, Marlon Brando and Queen Elizabeth 11. Luxury travel then was done in style!
The first stop on our lagoon cruise day is Akaiami Island at the beach where the planes landed to refuel. In those days passengers could relax on lounges on the beach and go swimming. Marlon Brando came back here to stay while filming Mutiny on the Bounty in 1962. The remnants of the dock are slowly being reclaimed by the sea.
Motu Rako Island is our next stop as we explore the tropical forest passing by Black Rock beach.
The “piece de resistance” was being dropped off the back of the boat near the other reef in among coral gardens tropical fish giant clams and a school of massive giant trevally darting around and between us.
One Foot Island is our lunch stop and tie for more snorkelling. The name of this island has a poignant backstory. It’s only inhabitants were a father and his son. Facing a hostile tribe approaching the island the father instructed his son to walk along the beach to hide behind the massive aerial roots of a pandanus tree. As the son walked the father walked in the son’s footprints conveying the impression in the sand that he was the only inhabitant. The invaders found the father and killed him leaving the island not suspecting the existence of the son.
On 11 April 1789 Captain of the Bounty, William Bligh was the first European to to map and land on Aitutaki. It is said he introduced papaya plants here. Of course as they say, the rest is history. 17 days later Fletcher Christian led the famous mutiny on the Bounty, relieving Bligh of his command and casting him adrift in a small boat assuming that he would die.
Today Aitutaki Island is a 40 minute flight from Rarotonga on a small twin prop aircraft that zig zags between the islands 7 times a day. Descending low to land on the US built WW2 airstrip the beauty of this atoll and the turquoise water lagoon protecting it is breathtaking.
We are welcomed at the tiny terminal with singing and a floral lei.
A 5 minute drive takes us to our own Private Island resort. The first impression is paradise on earth. Languid palm trees lean over pristine white sand beaches lappd gently by turquoise sea waves. Our villa is luxurious and we quickly discover the joys of the warm private infinity plunge pool just metres from our own private stretch of beach.
The main road is a ring road that hugs the beaches. In a cute twist there are two buses that circulate on this road and one is labelled “clockwise” and the other “counterclockwise”. I have rented a car and the total drive time is 40 minutes.
On Saturday morning the market in the main town of Avarua is a popular destination for locals and tourists alike. Mid morning they put on a free dance show.
After lunch I take the steep walk up to Wigmore Falls. Sadly during the dry season it is reduced to a trickle.
On the way down I wander through a bizarre tourist “attraction”, the derelict Sheraton Hotel complex abandoned in 1993. The story behind this is fascinating. In 1987 an Italian construction company presented the Cook Island government a proposal to build their first 5 star hotel. The Cook Island Government signed a $52 million deal with an Italian bank to fund the development. In 1990 at the sod turning ceremony a local family disputing the ownership of the land placed a curse upon it. Not long after the construction company went broke. A second Italian construction resumed work until the Italian Government withdrew its guarantee amid rumours of Mafia involvement. The Cook Island government remained liable for the interest on the loan which grew to $120 million, almost bankrupting the country. The resulting wave of government cuts resulted in a wave of migration to NZ.
We drive around the island stopping for photos.
Late in the afternoon we take a long stroll along the white sand beach and stop for a dip on the beach opposite Government House before our last dinner on the island.
Snorkelling with turtles is a popular tourist activity and I am in there with bells on. My life partner declines the invitation so I set out early in the morning to Ariki tours and they kit us up with well oiled efficiency and soon we are walking across the lagoon to the Avaavaaroa passage, a small break in the reef to allow us out of the lagoon into the sea. Unsurprisingly it is also a spot with strong tricky currents as the “Danger, beware of currents” sign on the beach reflects.
In addition to the standard snorkelling gear we have an underwater sea scooter strapped to our right wrist. It’s a nifty little James Bond like gadget that whisks us from the beach to the reef in no time at all. In addition I have Chris’ GoPro attached to the scooter and have my new little underwater water camera also strapped to my right wrist. In all I have 3 completely new gadgets to wrestle with and it is probably a mistake. Especially as our guides are taking professional quality images which they upload for us as part of the package.
The reef drops away and initially all I see is clear deep blue water. Then a turtle deep down on a rock ledge comes into view. We all experience multiple turtle sightings both far and near at one point the current pushed me within a few centimetres of a turtle up near the surface and it took a huge effort to battle the current and avoid a collision.
After a magic hour we scooter back into the lagoon for the boat ride to the shore.
Jetstar has a time machine. We boarded our flight in Auckland on 1st May and arrived in Raratonga on 30 April. The joys of crossing the International date line! Something that makes planning for these trips complex and confusing.
We arrive at our resort at 9:30pm and our spacious and airy villa looks a bit minimalist. Sliding open the rear French doors we hear waves lapping in the darkness. The next morning we awake to the piece de resistance! The view out of the window from our bed is paradise, golden sand beach, turquoise sea and languid palm trees. Twenty to thirty steps takes us to the warm clear sea.
The Cook Islands are just over half way between Auckland and Hawaii. Spanish navigator Alvaro de Mendana was the first European to reach the islands in 1595. James Cook visited the islands in 1773 and 1777. He named the island of Manuae Hervey Island. It was Russian cartographers who referred to these islands as Cook Islands in the 1820s and the name has stuck. It is a group of 15 Polynesian Islands, a self governing country but with New Zealand overview in defence and governance. The main island is the biggest, Rarotonga it is a classic Pacific tropical island with beautiful white sand beaches, lagoons and a jungle clad mountainous spine.
I have booked a lagoon cruise on our first day. We start at 11 am and it is a lively crew joking and singing taking us to a snorkeling site and then to a lagoon island for BBQ lunch and entertainment. The snorkelling was a disappointment with uninspiring coral and minimal numbers of fish. The island visit was pretty and good fun.
Two nights ago I was in a tent pitched on a South Sudanese encampment in cow dung. Now I am chowing down in a first class lounge on foie gras, Wagyu beef and Bordeaux wine. The massive incongruity is most certainly not lost on me and on reflection encapsulates all of what is wrong with this planet.
I love Africa. It is raw, basic and an adventure. The people are warm and fascinating. So too with the wildlife. My first adventure here was in 1986 with a 2 month back pack in East Africa. Sadly this place doesn’t change, at least not for the better. In fact more and more armed conflict seems to define this content. Ranging from Islamic extremists in Saharan Africa to tribal conflicts in places such as South Sudan and, more poignantly the Hutu – Tutsi conflict which continues across at least 4 countries in central Africa.
The West’s response is insipid. An armada of white 4 WD bearing the UN badge criss cross this continent. You see them everywhere! Toothless tigers accomplishing nothing. In some of the better destinations a glorified junket for so called peacekeepers. If the UN/west really wanted to make a difference here how about getting back to basics? Perhaps a 5 year program to supply clean reliable reticulated water to everyone on the continent. Perhaps another plan for waste/ sewage management. Not as sexy as being a Mickey mouse “peacekeeper” but a whole lot more impactful.
In the meanwhile I look to achieving my goal of visiting and providing a photo record of this diverse continent.
A long time ago I saw a documentary about Leni Riefenstahl. In the 1930s she was a prominent cinematographer with potentially a glittering career ahead of her. WW2 erupted and Hitler coopted her to be his cinematographer and she made a number of propaganda films for him. Viewing them now in grainy black and white one can ee she is a master of her craft. Post WW2 she maintained that she was forced into making these films but her career as a movie maker was over. In her sixties she flew over and lived with the Nuba in South Sudan. Her eponymous book published in 1972 I have at home and is a remarkable photo essay of these proud, statuesque noble people. It is a glimpse of this that I am here to see. Interestingly this amazing woman took up SCUBA diving when she was 90 years of age and lived to the age of 101 as a vigorous active amazing lady.
The Mundari are a seminomadic pastoralist tribe. The actual drive to them only takes 40 minutes from Juba which is visible on the horizon from their camp. These people have a rich culture based upon their cattle herds. They take the animals out to graze during the day returning at night to tie them up securely to pegs laid out on ground. The setting sun provides the backdrop for the securing of hundreds of lowing cattle each of them tenderly managed including a dusting of ash to ward off insects. There is an intimacy, almost mysticism about being here to watch this.
We camp overnight with the Mundari. The morning is a flurry of activity. Obviously they milk the cows but That’s not all. They do not kill the cows at all so don’t use milk and hides unless they die of natural causes. They do, though, use the dung drying and burning that for ash to decorate themselves and also repel insects. They also use their urine in the morning supposedly as antiseptic and to moisturise skin but the end result is literally a “golden shower”. It does not stop there if a crow’s milk is declining they employ a technique of blowing into the vagina of the cow which apparently stimulates milk production.
South Sudan shares the dual “honour” of being the youngest nation in the world established in 2011 and also the poorest country in the world. As an aside on this trip I have visited the 3 poorest contries on the planet in order South Sudan, Burundi and CAR. This is a large country hived off from Sudan to the north, Sudan being Muslim and South Sudan being Christian/tribal religions. South Sudan is a country rich with oil resources but these are useless when the pipeline to export this runs through Sudan and has been sabotaged in Sudan who refuses to repair it.
It is a country that was born in the crucible of war with Sudan and all of its short history has been wracked with war, ongoing with Sudan and civil war from within with dissenting tribes. There are 64 ethnic groups in South Sudan. I tried to research the ongoing conflicts here and went cross eyed reading about and understanding the various groupings in this crazy mixed up nation.
Once again the capitol, Juba is underwhelming. Unlike Europe one doesn’t visit Africa for the sights of the big cities. Nonetheless it does have the white Nile flowing through it before it becomes th massive swamp known as the Sud. Eventually it merges with the blue Nile in far off Khartoum before becoming the main artery of Egyptian existence thence flowing into the Mediterranean sea.
